A gentleman who resided in the heart of the Corn Belt paid his first visit to Chicago. With him came two friends. The three of them occupied one large room in a Loop hotel.
On the second day of sight-seeing the Corn Belter’s feet gave out on him. Leaving his companions to finish out the evening at a theatre, he returned to the hotel and went to bed. When the other two arrived, shortly before midnight, they found the door of their room locked. They pounded on the panels until the sleeper awakened.
“Let us in, Zach!” said one of them impatiently.
“Let yourself in,” he answered. “The key is outside there in the hall.”
“How does it come to be outside when you’re inside?” demanded one of them.
“Oh, after I got undressed I throwed it over the transom so’s you fellers could git in without no trouble. It must be layin’ on the floor.”
They found the key and admitted themselves. As they entered one of them asked:
“Say, Zach, what would you have done, locked in here this way, if there’d been a fire?”
“Why, I wouldn’t have went.”